


Sleepy Time

by outofthedeck



Series: no where, posthaste [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Krok has like one (1) line, because ive always wanted to write one of these, its a sleepover fic!, its mostly fulcrum dealing with shit, mostly being tired, sorry - Freeform, take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 21:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofthedeck/pseuds/outofthedeck
Summary: It's been almost four days since he's slept. He needed to fall asleep and he's been trying to fall asleep, but little stuff kept him awake. Like how the shadow in the corner looked just a little too much like a person.Is this what Spinister felt like? Like everything was looking at him? Because it sucked.





	Sleepy Time

**Author's Note:**

> Sleep fic! Sorta...it's mostly just fulcrum walking and thinking. But there is snuggles don't worry. I wont cheat you on that. Well, maybe a little. It's also shorter than I'd like but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Here you go

Fulcrum rolled over again. The shadows on the wall seemed to warp the room and it made him feel uneasy. 

 

He sighed. It's been almost four days since he's slept. He  _ needed _ to fall asleep and he's been  _ trying _ to fall asleep, but little stuff kept him awake. Like how the shadow in the corner looked just a  _ little  _ too much like a person.

 

Is this what Spinister felt like? Like everything was looking at him? Because it sucked. 

 

Instead of trying to coax his mind into relaxing, Fulcrum sat up and accepted defeat. He debated turning the lights on. A hard pounding in his head from the movement of just sitting up told him that was a bad idea. 

 

Between the stress of saving the universe then _leaving_ the universe into a _new_ universe, and the bottomless drinks last night (no matter _how_ much Swerve watered them down), it left him with the worst headache since Misfire found his old stash of circuit speeders. He half debated going down to the medibay to get some sort of painkiller or sleep aid, but it seemed like all the medics on this ship had some kind of screw loose. 

 

He also didn't know if Spin was on night duty. If he was and Fulcrum came in there complaining about a headache to end all headaches, Krok would find out and that is a whole ‘nother can of worms he’d rather not open. 

 

But he really needed to recharge.

 

But he wasn't used to having his own room. The dark corner seemed to stare harder at this fact. 

 

The sleeping quarters on the W.A.P. were very much communal. Hell, half the time he didn’t have his own bed. So the last time he slept alone was his cell on Styx-

 

And he was out in the hallway before he could follow that train of thought. He couldn't stand the shadows but the bright lights in the hallway did not help his headache.

 

He let his legs wander for him, his mind elsewhere. He really  _ really _ didn’t want to think about Styx. He’s been lucky. Between the stupid ‘adventures’ the Scavengers would drag him on, and the whole thing with the  _ Lost Light _ , there was a constant distraction, something  _ else  _ to think about. Now, though, it was quiet. They weren't running from something.

 

Well, nothing  _ physical. _

 

Fulcrum wandered the ship, occasionally passing a mech. Most were polite enough to nod an acknowledgement, the rest just outright ignored him. 

 

A few did give him concerned looks, and it angered him. He didn’t need Autobot pity. Yeah sure he was a  _ little _ tired but he wasn’t about to keel over on the spot. 

 

Probably.

 

He was just outside his (his? He thinks it’s his) habsuite level when he crossed paths with Rodimus. Over the few days, Fulcrum’s only impression of the captain was that he was  _ loud _ .

 

It wasn’t Rodimus’ volume, per say, that made him loud, it was more the fact that he could take on Misfire any day when it came to the  _ amount _ of words the mech could say in a short time span.

 

“Hey, uh, Fulcrum, right?” Rodimus was going in the opposite direction, but whatever was at his destination was deemed less important than talking with Fulcrum. The mech did a quick u-turn and matched Fulcrum’s slow speed.

 

“Yeah.” Was all he said, but Rodimus didn’t seem to mind.

 

“Cool, you’re one of Krok’s, yeah? Well, obviously. Sorry. Krok said you're a techie. Maybe tomorrow-ish you can take a look at our navicomp? It’s been busted for years now and we’ll need it now more than ever.”

 

“I-uh, sure?”

 

“Great. Just talk to Magnus or something. He’ll set you up, get you up to speed.” He clasped a hand on Fulcrum’s shoulder. “Alright, see ya later. Get some rest.” And then the mech was gone, speeding down the corridor to wherever he was going before. 

 

The mech was a weird mix of Misfire and Krok, and it made him feel uneasy. He rubbed his shoulder where Rodimus touched him and shivered. No, he  _ really _ didn’t like that. Rodimus was too  _ touchy _ . It was probably just ‘culture shock’. That would make sense. The way to get anything under the ‘cons was to threaten them, and a lot of that came with getting in one’s personal space

 

He was pretty sure Rodimus didn’t mean anything by it, but someone should tell the mech.

 

Someone not named Fulcrum. 

 

Nope. He’ll talk to Krok, or something.

 

Fulcrum didn’t realize until then that he hasn't moved since Rodimus made his hasty retreat. Unfortunately, his mind took over again and he realized that this was  _ not  _ his habsuite level. He recognized the numbers, but he just couldn’t place where…

 

_ 236  _

 

Huh. That sounded familiar. 

 

He was surprised to find that the door opened when he put in his access code. By the time he realized  _ where _ he recognised it, it was too little too late. He was in the room, and the door was closed.

 

This was Krok’s room. And Krok  _ hated _ it when any of them entered his space.

 

Fulcrum backtracked, attempting to make a silent, hasty retreat, but a voice spoke up from the dark.

 

“Hmmpf. You’re late.” A red optic onlined, and subsequently offlined. Fulcrum’s own optics adjusted to the dark and he finally saw why he wasn’t in trouble even though Krok knew he was here.  

 

Grimlock, in beast mode, was curled up on the floor. Scattered around him were the rest of the Scavengers, including Nickel who was passed out on Grim’s back. 

 

Krok was the only one awake, it seemed, but not for long. His telltale snoring sounded up again a few minutes later. 

 

Fulcrum sighed. Was he really that predictable? He shrugged it off, opting to just curl up against Grimlock’s neck. The beastformer let out a small, pleased snort. 

 

Fulcrum patted his nose. “Me too.” And promptly fell asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love the scavengers so much


End file.
